


Chaser's Tell

by SheWhoWalksUnseen



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Angst is my middle name, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mildly Canon Divergent, Mutual Pining, Newt Scamander is a Dork, Oh and a dash of angst whaddya know?, One Year Later, Queenie + Jacob are best buds and no one can tell me otherwise, Slow Burn, Temporary Amnesia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-16
Updated: 2016-12-16
Packaged: 2018-09-07 22:26:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8818552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SheWhoWalksUnseen/pseuds/SheWhoWalksUnseen
Summary: The tricky thing wasn't that Newt already possessed his ticket to the boat leaving New York. It wasn't that he couldn't stop himself from pacing the streets of the city, his case in hand. It wasn't that he continuously ventured past the bakery just for a glimpse (though whether it was for a peek at the owner or the familiar-looking pastries he couldn't be entirely sure).The tricky part was knowing that he wouldn't be able to leave without seeing his friend again.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Writer's block is a bitch. Sadly, my other stories on this site may need to wait since I've finally regained my inspiration - just not for the right stories.
> 
> This pairing definitely needs more stories so why not add to the pile? All aboard the Newcob/Scawalski train. Feel free to drag your friends down into fluff hell with the rest of us. This one's not canon compliant with the second film obviously, even though the movie isn't even out yet, but it's set a year after the events of FBAWTFT. Let's see how far I get with this, shall we?

_December 17, 1927_

 

 One of the many perks of running a bakery in the city was that word traveled swiftly. Despite the deteriorating state of wealth in these rough times, New Yorkers were eager to visit  _Kowalski Quality Baked Goods_ for a quick bite. The shop had only been open for a short while and word between neighbors proved efficient. Soon enough, Jacob found that he had to hire an eager worker named Henry to help him run the place as people spilled in daily. Thankfully the work was enjoyable so he didn't mind to hustle and bustle.

 

 As the last pair of customers that evening trickled out the door, Jacob breathed a deep sigh, a smile stretching across his face. He had sent Henry home a couple hours prior as the less boisterous regular customers made their way into  _Kowalski Quality Baked Goods_ and now he had the place to himself before closing. The rumble of the car engines outside and the hum of voices chatting as they walked by soothed the adrenaline from the previous store rush. While he was proud of the attention his shop had gotten, it was nice to have some quiet. The holiday season and the winter chill nipping through coats had brought in more folk than usual, eager to escape the cold for a bite at something fresh out of the oven. Jacob chuckled to himself as he scanned the garlands strung on the high shelves, the only sign of the holiday season to be found indoors.

 

 He really should give Henry a raise. The man had been working hard this season, especially given that his wife was pregnant, and he needed the doe. Jacob made a mental note to add an extra zero to his pay for the month.

 

 Untying the apron from behind his back, the portly man hummed to his lonesome as he began to ready the shop for closing. The outside world faded into background noise as he worked, packing the remaining pastries (not that there were many) up for the night. Perhaps he could give some to those twins who sat on the corner of the road every evening; the poor things were scrawnier than beanpoles and who knew where their parents were. It tugged at his heartstrings that he couldn't do more for them. The two couldn't be older than twelve, barely cresting the hill of adolescence, and others had the nerve to walk past them when they cried for money. Jacob's heart stung just thinking about it now.

 

 The younger girl always appeared more ragged than her brother, ginger hair matted and freckles dulled by the dirt on her cheeks. It was pitying to watch her sit in silence, merely observing the passersby instead of calling for money like the other. She would play idly with the hem of her dress, twisting it over and over until she reversed the process in the opposite direction. Her brother on the other hand had bright eyes, a brilliant shade of cobalt that gleamed with hope whenever someone offered a coin to them. He was the one shouting on street corners and flashing his best grin at the people who scurried by.

 

 Jacob was never sure why, but he often found himself staring at that boy. Something about him was uncannily familiar, the way he fidgeted with his hands, the soft looks he passed to his sister when he thought she wasn't looking. It reminded him of something - no,  _someone_ \- else.

 

 The only problem was, he didn't know who.

 

 Queenie had admitted that it was bound to happen still. While most of his memories concerning last December were complete, bits and scraps remained scattered to the winds. It was frustrating at first, particularly during the months before Queenie had returned and he'd burst into laughter after it had come rushing back at him in trickles like the rain that had washed the bad memories away (because surely that meant the others were doing fine and it was all beginning to make sense except...who were the others?). He had tried to remember the pieces he was missing, but whatever should have triggered the rest of his uncooperative mind refused to budge.

 

 She had offered a few times to tell him everything. More often than not he caught her sneaking a look at him, likely peering into his thoughts to check on the progress of his mind. While he appreciated the gesture, Jacob had dismissed it with a wave and a laugh. Because surely he'd be right as rain in no time. He wanted to be able to recall the things he was missing on his own, as painful as it would be.

 

 Queenie's soft smile was enough to assure him that she would do her best not to spoil the process for him. That didn't mean he missed the glint of sadness in her eyes.

 

 It was all right. He had been through worse than amnesia (a shudder ran through him at the memory of the War and... well, something else equally horrifying he was sure). He could work with this.

 

 Jacob realized that due to his deep thinking he had frozen in place, hands halfway reaching for the last pastry. The bulbous head of the fantastical creature seemed to be staring up at him. Again, the nagging tingle in the back of his brain started up.

 

  _These creatures are lovely, Mr. Kowalski! Wherever did you get the idea to make them?_

 

_They're unlike anything I've ever seen!_

 

_What extraordinary designs... And how delicious, ha!_

 

 "Now you're just being foolish," he muttered to himself. He picked up the babka to waggle a finger at it with mock sternness. "There's nothing in the slightest bit magical about you. I know that for a fact."

 

 "Do you usually talk to your products?"

 

 Jacob jerked upright, nearly dropping the creature in his hurry to identify the voice. He dropped his head with a sheepish chuckle at the sight of the smile twitching on Queenie's face. Somehow he had missed her arrival entirely in his lecture to his products.

 

 "Only at closing time," he joked, putting the offending pastry with the rest of the leftovers for the day. "Don't suppose you'd be interested in taking that one off my hands?"

 

 Queenie shook her head, leaning her elbows on the counter and crossing her arms. "As much as I'd love to, Teenie gets a bit irritable when I bring home a couple of your batches. She says that I should be 'helping, not hindering' your business."

 

 Jacob couldn't help but smile. While he wasn't the best of friends with the elder Goldstein sister, the brunette tended to drop by on the occasion the grab a bite before heading to work. He knew that she had been reluctant to do so initially, since he shouldn't have begun remembering the Wizarding World at all and them being involved could be dangerous, but after seeing Queenie visit for nearly two months she gave in. Queenie, on the other hand, somehow managed to accidentally weasel her way into getting a free pastry whenever she stopped to see Jacob. Not that he minded, of course.

 

 "I don't think I'd call you a problem for business." He gestured to the lone box of leftovers on the counter. "The holidays are going wonderfully so far."

 

 The blonde pulled the box closer and gnawed on her lip as she examined the remaining food. "You sold all that today? That's more than _yesterday_ , sugar."

 

 "I think there were more children coming in today, begging their parents for sweets," Jacob said. If his cheeks were blazing red, Queenie didn't bother to tease him about it. "They tend to love the pastries more than the adults. It's incredible, isn't it?"

 

 "Is there any with raspberry filling left?" Queenie glanced up at him. "Those are Teenie's favorite. Something tells me she's having a rough day at work."

 

 "You're in luck. Got one right here." Jacob passed over the pastry and watched as she snuck it into her purse for safekeeping. He never truly stopped being awed by the bond between the two sisters. There were instances where Queenie froze dead in her tracks when she'd come to visit, tilt her head, and then murmur something partially under her breath about the incident being a "close call". It was worrying each time, as he was never sure if the blonde would simply bolt from the shop to aid Tina. He couldn't imagine being in her shoes, freezing up every time something went wrong concerning a person he cared for.

 

 It was a passing thought, but he wondered if she ever got a vision of sorts about him.

 

 "Are you coming over for dinner tonight?" Queenie turned back to him with a cheerful demeanor. "I'm thinking of making strudel again for dessert. Tina said she'd sneak you in once you made it to the building."

 

 Jacob sighed. "I wish. But - "

 

 "You want to get an early start for tomorrow," she interrupted, her expression morphing into a softer appearance. Hesitance brought a brief silence before she piped up gently, "We can finish quickly if you want."

 

 As much as he would have loved to join the Goldsteins, he had his business to worry about. If he didn't buy the rest of his ingredients for the week he'd run out midway through the morning. His stomach mourned the loss of his friend's strudel already.

 

 He didn't need to say a single word more about the matter. Queenie merely smiled. "Well, we'll be sure to save you a seat for tomorrow night, honey. We miss you at dinner." The unspoken words  _I miss you_   _there_ dangled between them.

 

 Queenie was a lovely woman. He knew that they weren't allowed to harbor feelings for each other given some magical law Tina had not-so-subtly brought up multiple times whenever their mental-verbal exchanges grew too much for her, but that didn't mean he couldn't think of her as a beautiful friend. He had enjoyed spending nearly a year in the shop with her, showing her his new creations and explaining how non-magical folk learned to bake pies and pastries, discussing the best way to roll the dough for his bread. It was nice to have someone who loved cooking as much as he did and checked up on him weekly despite their different lifestyles.

 

 As if she sensed his thoughts - which was entirely possible - the witch giggled and squeezed his hand lightly before releasing it. "I'll tell Teenie you said hello. Have a good night, Jacob."

 

 "You too," he said quietly, watching as she walked out the door and down the street, vanishing from his line of sight. Whether or not she heard his verbal goodbye was unclear. With the sky darkening above the city, the remaining sunlight cast a weary shadow over the top portion of his face. The muted noise from the people outside gave the moment a sense of tranquility.

 

 As he was turning away from the windows of his shop, his eyes caught something briefly, drawing his focus back to the street. A shade of blue so familiar he had to do a double take, whipping around a corner as -

 

 Jacob rubbed his temples and blinked once, twice. When he searched the street again, there was no dark blue coat and no owner belonging to it. The only people around were a couple walking by with groceries in hand and a young woman hurrying to reach home before dark.

 

 "Must be imagining things," he uttered slowly, half-dazed. He forced himself to face away from the windows and focus back on the box sitting on the counter. It didn't help that the prickling sensation was back, tugging and pulling at him to  _look again just in case, you never know_.

 

 He wasn't going to find anything, though. Jacob knew he wouldn't. Whoever he had thought he saw was gone and there was no point in trying to search for them. What was he going to do? Run down the busy city streets and ask his neighbors if they had happened to spy a blue coat from their apartments? The idea sounded even more ridiculous in his head.

 

 As he closed the door to  _Kowalski Quality Baked Goods_ that night, he never noticed the two figures moving across the way who vanished into the night before he turned around.

 

*

 

 He could tell Tina was happy to see him when he got off the boat. The smile sent her face aglow and he couldn't help but wave awkwardly back to her once his suitcase had been properly checked. The chill in the air was colder than last year's, hinting at the possibility of snow in the near future. Pickett shivered in his pocket, likely not pleased by that idea. Newt reminded himself that he was going to need to sneak the mischievous bowtruckle back into the case if the temperature grew to be too much. There seemed to be less people immigrating to America this time; Newt didn't find the need to push through crowds of people as great.

 

 "You're back." It was the first thing Tina said to him, her hands clasped in front of her.

 

 Newt attempted a sort of shrug which was awkward when holding the case. He wasn't sure if he ought to hug her in greeting, despite only having seen each other in person for two days. Though he supposed the numerous letters between them - and Queenie, who was eager to check in on how he was faring - made them more than acquaintances.

 

 "Not for too long, but yes." Newt hesitated, thinking of the precious cargo in his case. Should he present it now? Well, risking an escape from another creature after the last time wouldn't be advisable, now that he thought of it. Perhaps later.

 

 Tina seemed to guess the uncertain atmosphere growing. She gestured towards the streets of the city in the distance, the faint sounds of car honks and the chatter around him bringing back a mild sense of déjà vu. "I don't suppose you'll be leaving that case on the boat, will you?" Her question was said teasingly, though no doubt she meant it quite seriously. It would be difficult to forget what occurred on his last visit.

 

 "You know me too well," Newt told her and she merely shook her head before allowing him to follow her away from the boat.

 

 The harsh wind picked up around them as the sky steadily became grey. It appeared a winter rain was expected and many Americans rushed indoors as they too took note of the clouds above. From what some returning Muggles had mentioned on the boat, there had been fog in November last they were there, and the weather had been gloomy as of late. A pity, truthfully. He had been hoping for nicer conditions to visit. Tina didn't mind, it seemed; her gaze was fixed on the horizon ahead the longer they walked. Her pace was brisk, just as it had been last time. He wondered if it was due to her occupation. One could hardly be expected to walk calmly towards any magical enemy, he supposed. Though, they both had different ideas about how to approach a potentially harmful situation in varying contexts.

 

 He absentmindedly flicked one of the locks back into place on the suitcase in his grasp. The Niffler was growing more impatient around the shops, having remembered his attempted jewelry heist a couple streets over. Newt was hoping not to have to chase the bugger through another building. Every chance the Niffler spotted an opening in the case, he was the first to charge out of sight.

 

 "I suppose you've finished your book, then?" Tina's question registered sluggishly as he withdrew from his own mind.

 

 "Yes. It's been doing rather well so far, actually." Newt didn't hide the faint twinge of pride in his tone. It had taken nearly another year to finish what he required for his book, and despite being out for a few months he had heard back from many journalists. All seemed to be skeptical about the beasts described until he went into further detail and eventually ignored the more rude questions by chattering on about the wonders of the Thunderbird or the Billywig. Nothing silenced a snippy journalist quite like a long one-sided debate on the merits of befriending a Tebo in the Congo.

 

 His answer seemed to satisfy Tina as well. Her lips moved upward easily as she glanced over at her companion. "Congratulations."

 

 "Thank you." The words were quieter. He wanted to say something along the lines of _I couldn't have written it without the help of you,_ but any chance of that stuck in the back of his throat as he remembered the others he owed thanks to too. Some he would never get to thank for their assistance in his research. The sky seemed darker as his own mood shifted.

 

 If Tina noticed anything unusual, she said nothing of it. "Queenie's off buying the chicken for tonight. I think she wants to make a roast, and then end with a strudel for dessert. She's been excited about having guests since I mentioned you were coming for a visit." The woman laughed to herself at that, tugging her coat around her tighter as the wind threatened to blow it away.

 

  _Y_ _ou prefer pie or strudel?_ The Legilimens' quiet voice wriggled its way into his head and Newt shoved the memory aside ( _you prefer strudel, don't you, honey?_ ).

 

 "I might have to skip out on dessert, sorry. The mooncalves are growing bigger and their feeding time is routine." He shot her a thin smile though Tina wasn't facing him to see it. "They get irritable when I forget dinner."

 

 "You can stay for most of dinner, though." There was something odd in her tone. Newt studied Tina and found disappointment in her eyes. Clearly she had been expecting him to remain throughout the whole meal, though he wasn't sure why. Perhaps she had been planning something. "I'll have to finish your plate of strudel."

 

 The attempt at a joke granted her a more genuine smile, but he remained unmoved. "I'm afraid you will. I doubt you'll suffer for that."

 

 Tina gave him a stern look. At the edges of his gaze, those lips seemed to be twitching despite the blatant despondency lingering. A passersby bumped Newt's left shoulder and he stumbled briefly, regaining his footing thanks to a firm grip from Tina on his upper arm. He nodded at her gratefully, glancing back to see the disappearing coat of his clumsy aggressor. New Yorkers were considerably ruder than he remembered.

 

 "Thank you." Newt straightened and adjusted his grip on the suitcase.

 

 "Only been back for ten minutes and already you're causing trouble," Tina teased. He let out a small laugh of his own at that. If only she knew half the trouble he had gotten into in Berlin with those pair of Kneazles three months ago.

 

 "How have you been? Back as an Auror, I mean." Newt gestured towards Tina, spying the tip of her wand poking from a pocket n her coat. Instantly her dark eyes brightened and she jumped into the cases she'd encountered in the year he'd been traveling and writing around the world. He found it easier to relax once she began to tell him all about her work; it reminded him of their letters, how each grew longer from the hesitantly short paragraphs scrawled before their eyes. It had given Newt comfort to know that Tina was enjoying being reinstated in her former position. From what he had seen last December, she was quick with her wand and she'd earned the right as an Auror. It took guts to stand up to one of the most dangerous wizards in the world and attempt to calm an Obscurial.

 

 Memories of that night nagged once more at the back of his mind, poking their way in. He tried not to think about where Credence's last shred of being might have fled or the adrenaline fueling through him as he was dragged from the hall in MACUSA. He _certainly_ didn't think about the niggling whisper that wanted him to chance another look at the people around him, as if it would be fair to -

 

 No. Newt had warned himself that this wasn't going to happen. He was here to visit, give Tina his book, have a couple chats with Queenie, and then he was on the next boat home.

 

 That didn't stop him from glancing across the way at the shops lining the busy streets of the city, just in case he found a familiar name.

 

*

 

 It would have been brought up sooner or later. He knew it wasn't acceptable, despite what he had hoped, to pretend some parts of last year had never happened. Then again he supposed that having a Legilimens in the same apartment was bound to trigger the subject, whether he wanted to discuss it or not.

 

 "He's doing well, you know."

 

 Newt glanced up from the occamy he had been holding and saw that Queenie had entered the suitcase without him noticing, watching from near the shed. The focused look in her eyes was a telltale sign and before he could open his mouth to ask her to stop, she said, "I didn't need to hear your thoughts to know you're wondering about him, Newt."

 

 He didn't respond. It was easier to turn back to the creatures demanding his attention, likely whining for food, than to react to the statement.

 

 Her next words were gentler as she moved closer. "He's got that bakery now. You really should see the wonderful pastries he makes. I think you'd quite like them."

 

 "Does he remember?"

 

 Newt hadn't intended for the words to leave his mouth. He fought the urge to cringe, soothing the baby occamy in his arms as she tried to nip his fingertips. The silence that greeted his question was unusually tense and he wished that he had left the matter be.

 

 It had been bothering him more than he wanted to admit. He had never had too many friends yet the thought of not keeping in touch with the Goldsteins across the water was a painful thought. The idea of trying to contact  _him_ was... well, it was even more so. Not just because Newt knew he probably didn't remember most of what had happened last winter.

 

  _Because I like you. Because you're my friend and I'll never forget how you helped me, Jacob._

 

 "Almost everything." Queenie's voice was quiet, thoughtful. He could, thankfully, feel that she wasn't poking around in his head, respecting his space. "He didn't want me to tell him the rest. He wanted to figure it out himself."

 

 So they had spoken then. That was a good sign. He was likely to remember Queenie most, Newt reminded himself. It would be more surprising if he had not remembered  _that_. Still, it wasn't hard to guess that there was good reason behind the hesitation in her tone.

 

 "Does he know - ?" Newt cut himself off from finishing the question. He wasn't entirely certain that he wanted to. With a look back at the blonde, he saw the answer flicker in her eyes. The woman was an open book.

 

  _Almost everything._ The words tickled the back of his mind and Newt turned away from her, willing the thoughts to vanish.

 

 "It's not too far from here."

 

 "What is?" He could feel her moving closer, bolder as whatever idea took hold in her mind solidified.

 

 "His bakery. You could pay him a visit."

 

 Newt was unable to hide his amusement. It was the first time in a long while that he noticed a bitter sound echoing faintly within it. "I appreciate the offer, but I'm much too busy. These creatures - "

 

 "That's how he remembered me."

 

 Whether or not she wanted her words to cause his hands to still, the silence persisted. Something about the statement, despite not being said in a boastful manner, scraped at him uncomfortably. Newt met Queenie's piercing gaze, her expression solemn yet hopeful. It reminded him, queerly, of Tina's disappointment earlier that day when he had declined dessert.

 

  _Standing under cover from the rain, wondering whether it wouldn't simply be easier to hide him in his case the same way he had done with his creatures, watching the once awed expression fade into one of dazed confusion before the three of them vanished..._

 

 "I know you miss him." She didn't need to read his thoughts to see what was written across his face.

 

 "I need to see to the other Bowtruckles. Please."

 

 It was partially true; he _had_ been aiming to move there next. Pickett, who insisted on riding in his pockets all the time now, thrummed lightly at those words. He brushed past Queenie and ignored the small prodding at his mind before it pulled away with reluctance. Something hard lodged itself in his throat as he listened to her footsteps fade back up the stairs. Newt was reminded strangely of the time when he'd found a stray dog at the age of eight, hiding in the garden and inching away from his small outstretched hand. He tried to remove the memory from his train of thought, as well as the thought of _It's just like waking up, isn't it?_  

 

 If the other Bowtruckles noticed the slight drag in his step or the softer nature of his mood, they made no mention of it. Pickett made a quiet sound from in his vest pocket, something suspiciously close to a reassurance, and Newt fought to hide the tremble in his hands.

 

 He was only visiting until the next week. He had more than enough time to get whatever this was out of his system. More than enough time to douse this fiery feeling in his gut.

 

 Somehow that statement caused an ache deep in his chest.


End file.
